Run, Girl
by Anna W
Summary: 4 years have passed since the strike in NYC and all its main players are nowhere to be found. Jack doesn't answer to that name anymore, David's gone quiet, and Spot hasn't been seen since the winter of 1899. So when a strange girl appears one fall day in Brooklyn, accidentally stumbling upon Spot in her need, a series of events is unleashed bringing out old secrets and new bonds
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

_**October 1903**_

It was time to go.

The grandfather clock in the sitting area below bonged loudly throughout the house, causing my heart to flutter in anxiety. I grasped the satchel over my shoulder even more tightly against my body as I held my breath in anticipation, my other hand trembling against the cool metal of my room's door knob.

_One. Two. Three. Four. _

The bongs echoed ominously, the repetitive strokes seeming to keep time with my own fingers' vacillating pressure upon the metal knob-a countdown timer of sorts, attempting to impel me forward even in the face of my fear. And then, almost of its own accord, my hand thrust the handle down, opening the heavy wooden barrier with just enough space so as to allow my thin form to easily slip out into the darkened upstairs hallway. And upon shutting the door silently behind me, I found myself quickly tiptoeing along the carpet-lined floors toward the stairwell-apprehensively taking in my dark surroundings with wide eyes and shallow breaths.

Absolutely empty.

_Five. Six. Seven. Eight. _

The oppressive silence of my family's large entryway pressed into me from all sides as I stepped off the bottom step, the candles upon the side tables having been long extinguished many hours before. But as I soundlessly passed through the large dining room and into the empty kitchen area, eyeing the servant's entrance from across the space, I allowed myself a deep exhale of relief. The back door that our household servants used to enter into and exit out of our home day in and day out had thankfully been left unlocked. Elsa, our maid, had come through for me after all.

_Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. _

The final gong of the clock shook me from my appreciative reverie as I again tightened my steely grip upon the satchel that hung solidly over my shoulder and steadily made my way to the door. And after another deep inhale, I pushed out into the crisp night air, closing the door behind me and allowing myself one last glance toward the home that had felt like anything but for the past 3 years.

I solidly stared at the building's facade in front of me, looking into the darkened windows of the second story as a means of strengthening my somewhat wavering resolve to leave. I raised my head to first view my father's window directly overhead, a boiling resentment surging within my gut as his mustached smirk and empty eyes flashed through my mind-a strong impetus if ever there was one to turn away and never look back. But as my gaze settled on the farthest darkened pair of glass panes, my face suddenly fell in regretful despondency.

"_I had to, Anna." _

A wave of sickness pulsated throughout my body as my sister's soft voice pierced into me like a sharp dagger, leaving nothing unharmed in its wake. I could feel the tears prick at the edges of my tired eyes, the distance in her icy blue ones from several days before again passing behind my closed lids.

_"You've left me and father no other choice." _

Yet the memory of the clear, premeditated betrayal her final sentiments alluded to immediately recentered my focus. Thus, with one last mournful glance, I clenched my jaw tightly against the hollow pain reverberating about my insides and nodded dismissively at the large brick building, turning on my heel to make my way in a world beyond the secrets and lies that had been woven so steadily within the Willing family walls for so many years at that point.

The truth had to exist somewhere in the city of New York, and I was betting my life on the hope that I'd come much closer to finding it the further away I pushed from my father's sphere of influence.

And so, with the cool twilight as my shield, I traversed silently through the Manhattan streets, haphazardly making my way to the docks by the East River, and hopefully to someone who could help me.


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

_**October 1903 **_

Sarah Jacobs looked out the window of her parents' two bedroom apartment and into the darkening Manhattan sky, deep in her own thoughts. Her mouth formed into a soft line, her eyebrows furrowing in a similar fashion as she took in the dirty brick buildings surrounding her, thankfully finding a small patch of green in the space beyond. As a child, she had often been in the habit of staring through all the city's soot to focus on whatever trees or grass were still left. But she could swear that these spaces were becoming harder and harder to find-almost as if they were dwindling away faster everyday.

Sarah exhaled slowly as she noted that the leaves had long changed into their fall colors, glowing almost like gemstones in the settling dusk. She used to love Fall in New York City-the best time of year in the most exciting place in the world-a place that she had long been proud to call her home. But now, she merely looked upon the season as another reminder of how fast time was passing and how much things had already changed.

Especially after everything that had happened in the months following the strike all those years ago.

She felt her right hand habitually grasp the small golden band around her left ring finger, gently tracing over the smooth metal. She glanced down momentarily at the thin, glinting gold, a soft smile touching her lips as the memory of her wedding day swiftly flashed before her eyes. Thankfully, not all of the changes over the past four years had been bad ones.

She chuckled softly as she thought back to the dream wedding she had meticulously laid plans for as a little girl-a ceremony filled with lace, expensive flowers, and fine china. The simple, small event that had actually taken place was certainly in stark contrast, but it had been perfect, nonetheless. The only thing she had ever truly needed anyway was the right man.

And that, she had undoubtedly secured.

"You ready, Sarah?"

Sarah started somewhat as a familiar voice broke through her thoughts, turning herself away from the darkening skyline to meet a pair of attentive brown eyes and the laughing smile she had come to know so well.

"Yeah, Jack," she said with a warm grin of her own in return.

It was still somewhat humorous to her that she and her parents were now the only ones that referred to Frank Sullivan as his old alias Jack Kelly. But, seeing as he had become her husband almost two years prior, she felt it was her prerogative to call him whatever nickname she saw fit. So, Jack it was-and probably forever-would be.

She allowed herself to be guided away from the window by Jack's securely pressed hand upon her lower back, somewhat grateful for the interruption of her darkening thoughts. And, after a quick appreciative farewell to her parents-thanking them for dinner and promising to visit within the next week-she and Jack walked down the stairway of the apartment building and out into the fresh night air.

"They look good," Jack quietly asserted after they had silently started on the second of their eight block commute .

Sarah looked up at him as he offered her his arm to take, immediately noting the questioning way he eyed her in the quiet moments following, as if his statement had merely been uttered to prompt her thoughts on the matter. She grasped his elbow with her hand lightly, utterly thankful for a second time that he had managed to bring her out of the solemnity that seemed to so naturally follow these regular visits to her parents.

Sometimes, it still amazed her that even after taking into account those few souls that had known her longer than he, Sarah could easily allow for the fact that Jack understood her best of all. He had always been gifted with reading a crowd, but, in some ways, he was even more attuned to any slight variation emanating from the woman he had chosen to spend the rest of his life with. Thus, she had come to not only expect but also appreciate his gentle probings in the face of her stoic silences. It allowed her to sort through her internal musings safely and with no judgment-something she could get from no one else in her life at the moment.

She offered him a slight smile before murmuring, "They miss David. I can tell."

Jack looked up thoughtfully as he sighed and stated, "He'll be back. They just need to give him some time."

"It's been six months, Jack," Sarah quickly replied, raising her eyebrows in challenge. "He graduated from Yale law six months ago. I don't exactly know what it is he's waiting for."

Truthfully, David's three and a half year absence more irritated Sarah than anything else. For save a multitude of letters stating the opposite, David had yet to venture home to see his family, or even his closest friend Jack. And though she did miss her brother immensely, she also found herself quietly resenting him for his selfishness-if only from the clear pain she could see in her mother, father, and Jack's faces at his absence.

Jack shot her an understanding smile before saying, "Maybe he's just not ready still."

"You always say that," Sarah responded softly with a frown, "You always give him the benefit of the doubt-him _and_ Spot."

For all of David's empty written promises, Spot Conlon's complete lack of communication was in some ways far more hurtful. The Brooklynite, who was Jack's closest, oldest friend, had almost seemed to disappear into thin air one day, leaving his territory to his second in command and no clues as to where anyone might be able to find him. The last Jack and Sarah had heard from Spot had been a short note of congratulations the day following their nuptials-a ceremony that both Spot and David had been asked to stand in, but one in which neither had even decided to show up for.

Jack smiled wider at her irritable response before he pulled her into his arms for a warm embrace as they finally came to the doorstep of their apartment building, whispering into the top of her head, "Would you love me the same way if I didn't?"

She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, smiling before murmuring, "No." And then, without another breath passing between them, she wrapped her arms solidly about his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips in a short, sweet kiss.

He looked pleasantly surprised when they broke apart slowly, quickly grasping her hand in his and saying, "They'll reach out when they're ready. You can't rush these types of things, you know. David's just tryin' to find his way after everything that happened, and Spot, well-" Jack paused, a flash of sadness entering his gaze before he continued more softly, "He's got a lot to process too." He squeezed her hand as she mirrored his sad gaze, swallowing hard when she heard him continue, "David and Spot are both real different, but the one thing they got in common is that they both are used to takin' responsibility and actin' when things go wrong. They just-weren't able to do it this time around with Les and Lily."

Sarah found herself nodding in agreement, a hollow pang of anguish nearly taking her breath away at the mention of her younger brother's name. But Jack again squeezed her hand in solidarity as they made their way up the front steps of the building, looking earnestly at her as he said, "Everybody's gotta get through grief in their own way. I'm just glad we had each otha. But it also makes me wanna be that much more understandin' for Davie and Spot, 'cause they don't got anyone to lean on like that, you know?"

Sarah smiled at Jack lovingly as they walked into their small one bedroom apartment and closed the door behind her. "How did I get so lucky?" she said as Jack grinned back toward her in kind.

"You happened to be at the right place at the right time, dollface" Jack joked.

And Sarah found herself chuckling, the melancholy that had been threatening to take over her thoughts all evening finally dissipating as she allowed herself to feel the same surge of contentedness that always came about when she and Jack were together.

Jack, of course was right as usual. And as she and Jack readied themselves for bed she allowed herself to hope that her brother-and perhaps even Spot-might find a sense of peace sooner rather than later.


End file.
